Page 49 of Connor

Because I couldn’t stop.

Because if I stopped watching, if I turned away, if I let myself sit with my thoughts for even a second, I might actually have to face what I’d done.

It had been four days.

Four days of standing here, night after night, punishing myself. Four days of not knowing where she stood, what she was thinking, what the hell she was going to do.

And then I saw her.

Through the window of her apartment.

She was sitting across from some guy. His back was to me, but I could see her. See the way she smiled. See the way she laughed. The breath locked in my lungs. Then the guy stood, gathering his books, and said something that made her smile even wider before he walked out the door.

I didn’t think. I was already crossing the street. Already heading for her door. By the time she turned around, I was pushing my way inside.

She gasped, stumbling back. "Connor, what the fuck?"

My chest was burning like I had swallowed fire. "Who was that?" My voice came out rough, dangerous.

Her brows furrowed. "Excuse me?"

"Don’t play dumb. Who the hell was he?"

"A study partner."

I let out a sharp, humorless laugh. "Right."

She glared. "You don’t get to do this. You don’t get to storm in here like—"

"Like what?" I stepped closer, my voice dropping lower, thick with resentment. "Like I fucking care who my baby mama is fucking?"

Disbelief flashed in her eyes. "You’re unbelievable." She moved to shove past me, but I caught her wrist. Gently.

"Let me go," she snapped.

My voice came out low, rough, shattered. "You slept with him, didn’t you? Was it that easy to replace me, Summer? Did he make you scream his name when he bent you over for him?"

My jealousy was insane, I had no right to be this way after everything I’d done and for a second I heard my father’s voice in my words—in my tone. Her eyes flashed with rage.

Then everything snapped.

I grabbed her. Itookher. I kissed her like I was trying to drown in her, die in her, take every last breath she had left and make it mine.

She moaned into my mouth, her nails clawing at me, tearing at my shirt, at my skin, like she needed to hurt me back. Like she needed this just as much as I did.

I ripped her against me, dragging her up my body, lifting her onto the counter like she weighed nothing. My lips tore down her throat, my teeth scraping, biting, leaving love marks that wouldn’t fade by morning.

I pocketed her panties, and pushed her dress up, bunching the fabric at her waist, baring her to me. She shuddered as I traced my fingers over her skin,rough, worshipful, my mouth pressing kisses down her collarbone, across her chest, my lips mouthing the words I couldn’t fucking say out loud.

I kissed down her stomach, sucking at the soft skin just above her navel. I bit at her hip, dragging my tongue over the sting, making her gasp, her nails scraping my scalp.

I dropped to my knees in front of her, spreading her thighs wide, breathing her in.

"Fuck, baby, look at you," I rasped, dragging my fingers through her slick heat, watching her tremble for me.

"Connor," she whimpered.

"I know, baby," I murmured against her skin, teasing her entrance, barely pushing inside, enough to feel her clench around me. "You’re soaking for me. Did you miss me that bad?"

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